


the scene slips away

by mimsical



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Earth C (Homestuck), Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Jealousy, M/M, Post-Break Up, Post-Canon, Reconciliation, Reconciliation Sex, jake english being the selfish little shit he is and that we love him for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 23:50:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11024169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimsical/pseuds/mimsical
Summary: If it were different you’d have Dirk over here, smiling atyou, and this man watching wistfully from the other side of the room. You and Dirk used to be very good at making each other laugh. If it were different you’d be the one capturing Dirk’s attention, the one who gets to touch Dirk and hear the low warmth of his voice when he flirts. You miss him all the time, stupidly, selfishly.





	the scene slips away

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this weeks ago as a jamfic and never posted it but here it is now ^.^

You find it the oddest thing that none of the party hosts seemed to concern themselves with the ethics of serving alcohol to teenagers. Presumably they don’t think of their creators as teenagers, and think instead that they are hosting a troupe of gods. Or Earth C might not have a drinking age. You’ve never looked into it. 

The first part of your evening was spent trying not to look like you were following Roxy around because as much as you worried for her comfort, surrounded as she was by the temptation to drink, you knew she would be annoyed to be hovered over. And you do your best not to be insensitive though in truth you really have not improved very much. Perhaps you’re better at hiding it? You hope so. You want to give your friends only reasons to think well of you, and not reasons to resent you. 

You’re making yourself nervous, thinking about this. What were you thinking about? Right. Roxy and Rose departed some time ago, with Calliope. You occupied yourself for a stretch by hovering near the snack table and trying to artfully dodge if one of the enthusiastic hosts or guests tried to engage you. It’s really frigging weird, that a whole planet of people just like you, people far older than you, too, that they all think of you as their gods. You’ve got a bite-sized lemony sort of dessert on a napkin. Jane’s are so vastly superior that it’s not worth making the comparison. 

Speaking of Jane, there she is, over by the bar, speaking seriously to a group of older folks who wear their suits with a degree of comfort that surpasses even what you can fake. You find everyone in the room with a moment of searching. Karkat and Kanaya seem to have sequestered themselves off in a corner, deep in discussion. John and Jade are talking to a few people more your age. You watch for a moment, and determine that they’re fascinated by Jade’s ears. 

It’s pretty funny. Jade bends her head to let one of them touch her ears. John catches your eyes and rolls his. You hide your smile in the glass you’ve been clutching for the past hour, mostly untouched. Maybe it’s an acquired taste, but you think alcohol tastes like shit. 

Where’s Dirk? 

You locate him a moment later, leaning on one of the little tables littering the room. He seems absorbed in a conversation with someone you recognize as one of the hosts’ son. You’d judged him to be a few years older than yourselves, at most. As you watch with mild curiosity, Dirk laughs over something the man says. 

Well, it’s not like it’s so rare of a sight for Dirk to laugh, anymore, is it? He’s relaxed quite a bit without impending doom hanging over all your heads. Surely there’s no cause for the sudden pit in your stomach. You abandon your post and try to meander forward, casual as you please, to get a better look at this fellow. 

You end up positioned near a wall, next to one of the tables yourself. From this angle you can see Dirk’s companion, but Dirk’s still mostly facing away from you. You judge the man to be quite plain after a few moments of (hopefully not obvious) scrutiny. He’s got dark hair, but he’s lighter skinned than you are. He drums his fingers on the table when he talks. You’d probably find that annoying after a few minutes. Dirk’s always been a fairly patient person, though. He always put up with your rambles about movies or your life on the island without seeming bored. 

When the man raises a hand to gesture, you see that he has a tattoo sneaking down his wrist. You redirect your attention to the floor. Dirk does like tattoos. 

This is an unpleasant train of thought. Your stomach feels weird. It’s not like it’s any of your business who Dirk talks to. And you’ve got no evidence that they’re having anything more than a friendly conversation. If you went over there right now they might well be extolling the virtues of broship and platonic embraces. Then again, you and Dirk did a lot of that, in the months before you dated. 

You really dislike this feeling. You’re almost angry, but mostly just sick at the thought of Dirk deciding he likes someone. Deciding he likes someone who isn’t you. You guess you’re jealous? You guess this is what jealousy feels like. It’s not an enjoyable feeling in the slightest. 

You try to redirect your attention somewhere else. You hear Dave’s laugh, bright and loud, nearby. He comes into your field of vision a moment later, waving someone off as they try to talk to him, you think. He makes his way across the room to Dirk. They fistbump. Dirk introduces his conversational partner. Dave shakes his hand. Dave says something else you can’t hear, and then departs towards Karkat and Kanaya’s corner. Dirk returns to his conversation. The man lays a hand on Dirk’s arm, briefly. You wish you could rip it off. For a second you idly imagine it being possible. Dirk might laugh, tell you to calm down. They’re just being friendly, imaginary Dirk promises. He links an arm through imaginary Jake’s. 

Knock it off, you tell yourself. What do you care if Dirk does think this man is attractive? It’s not really any of your business. Actually it’s none of your business. Never mind that you’re angry. Never mind that you wish it was the other man that was the jealous one. You and Dirk are on friendly terms again, if somewhat stiff ones. You try not to touch each other too much, for one thing. And Dirk makes less jokes than he used to. Maybe this is why it stings so much to see this other man chuckling at whatever Dirk’s saying. Probably spinning a yarn as well as he always does, winding up his audience to the peak so that when they break over the punchline they really laugh. Like a wave breaking, you mean. Dirk is sort of leaning towards him. Not much, but turned towards him, clearly focused. 

If it were different. 

If it were different you’d have Dirk over here, smiling at  _ you _ , and this man watching wistfully from the other side of the room. You and Dirk used to be very good at making each other laugh. If it were different you’d be the one capturing Dirk’s attention, the one who gets to touch Dirk and hear the low warmth of his voice when he flirts. You miss him all the time, stupidly, selfishly. You see him all the time but you still miss him. The man touches Dirk’s arm again. They’re definitely flirting. Dirk glances away and you can see the small smile he’s wearing. 

There’s something that’s just so terribly unfair in all of this. That you and Dirk bungled it up so badly, screwed the pooch to the moon and back, and now you’re the one watching Dirk and wishing you still had the whole of his attention on you when there was a time that Dirk wanted the same thing so desperately from you. That there was a time that you found the full force of Dirk’s attention suffocating seems absurd to you. Though maybe that’s just because of how conscientious he is now. He’s gotten very good at recognizing when interacting flips over from lovely to tiring. Honestly a little too good at recognizing it. You don’t mind getting tired out from time to time. Dirk doesn’t need to hightail it out like his ass is on fire whenever you hesitate a little long between responses. 

Oh, brother. You’re now staring at the way Dirk’s suit jacket accentuates the line of his hips. Dirk doesn’t even have much of an ass for you to ogle. This is getting ridiculous. 

The man holds his glass up, a toast. Dirk clinks their glasses together. They’re not touching, at least. Roxy said to you years ago that if your drinks touch at the rim it’s basically an indirect kiss. You sort of want to find a chair and sit down, but you also want to find a chair and kick it across the room. You miss kissing Dirk. It’s all well and good to spend time with each other, to debate the merits of Earth C cinema with careful distance between you, to not have your friends feel immediately awkward whenever you end up in the same room. But the last time you touched Dirk was back before you sped time up to see what would become of your planet, when everyone was having fun romping around and spending time under real sunlight again. Before that? Probably before you were even gods. 

Dirk used to say all the time that dating you was hazardous to his wellbeing because of the amount of time he had to put in to fixing his hair after you got your hands in it. You would just laugh at him. It isn’t exactly that you miss the more intimate parts of your relationship, but you miss how you used to grab him and drag him along with you, push him into walls or try to roll him off the couch when he was refusing to move over for you. Sometimes you would just sit on him and he would wriggle and complain and try to shove you off, and you would inevitably end up laid out flat on top of him doing your best to ruin his hair permanently and see how quickly you could steal all of his clever words out of his mouth with your tongue and reduce him to a much more pleasurable form of wriggling. 

Well, alright, you miss the more intimate aspects, too. It really makes you sick to think of someone else getting to learn these things about Dirk, learn all of his soft spots and the quickest way to make him gasp your name, the best way to drag things out. Dirk could very well choose to sleep with someone else, not even this man, but any man. The whole world is open to him, now. Dirk could have anyone. You don’t know if you can have Dirk again. You don’t think he’s given up on you entirely. 

You realize that you’re clutching your glass rather tightly and try to relax your grip. In all likelihood nothing will happen between Dirk and the stranger. Flirting can be innocent in nature. It’s not like Dirk’s going to sneak off to the bathroom or somewhere with this man. This thought process is not making you feel any less sick. You briefly, vindictively imagine that you and Dirk might slip away together. You could relearn Dirk somewhere hidden in this building, and the man might walk in on you. That might make you feel better. 

You glance back up from your glass to see if anything’s progressed. 

...The man is gone. Dirk is leaning back against the table, looking at you. Well, in your general direction, probably. As always it is hard to tell, what with the shades. 

Oh. He waves at you. You wave back, trying for casual. Dirk doesn’t turn away, so you slowly push off the wall and head to join him. 

“Hey,” he says when you’re in earshot. 

“Hey yourself,” you say, acutely aware that you were just fantasizing about fucking Dirk to make someone as jealous as you were feeling. 

“Having fun?” Dirk asks. 

You shrug and set your glass down. “It’s a perfectly acceptable party. Yourself?” 

“It’s alright. Pretty decent.” You try to gauge if Dirk seems more cheerful than usual, but he seems about the same as ever. “It’s not too many people for you?” 

“I’m not bothered,” you say. 

He indicates your glass. “Does that help?” 

You pull a face. “Honestly? I think it tastes awful. I’m only dragging it around for show. What about you? Does alcohol do anything to you?” 

Dirk’s glass is mostly empty. You saw him with something different earlier, too. “Can’t really tell. I don’t feel lightheaded or anything. But I haven’t tried anything requiring fine motor movements yet, so I’ll have to let you know.” 

You nod. Can’t quite think of what to say. 

“By the way, meant to ask earlier,” Dirk adds. “You put the SkaiaNet skull on your suit?” 

“Oh, yeah!” You brighten a little. “I was chatting with Jade about how SkaiaNet existed in their iteration of the universe, too. We were talking about starting up a company here with the same name. Complete the circle, you know? So I thought I’d add it on, for fun.” You tap your fingers on the emblem. 

“That would be pretty sweet,” Dirk says. He settles with an elbow on the table. “I’d buy your products.” 

You laugh. “Well, it was just an idea. You’re looking pretty snazzy yourself.” He’s rocking orange lapels. It’s kind of adorable. 

There’s a loud crash behind you. You whip around, startled. It looks like Jade and John got up to some sort of mischief with the group that liked Jade’s ears. Jade is apologizing and John is using the Breeze to sweep up a shattered vase. 

You turn back around to Dirk. He looks at you with a crease in his eyebrows. “Um, what was I saying?” you ask. You’re rattled. 

“We were talking about suits,” Dirk says. 

“Right.” There’s another commotion, then the sound of John laughing. Dirk is still waiting patiently. You can’t focus, suddenly. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” you improvise. 

Dirk glances around the room, then shrugs. “Sure.” 

The man he was flirting with earlier does not reappear at any point as you two wend your way through the crowd towards the door. Dirk doesn’t look for him, either. You collect your coats and step out into the crisp night air. 

The sound of a city around you is more relaxing than a room full of people, somehow. It all becomes white noise after a while. You bury your hands in your coat pockets and sigh out some of the tension. 

“To think,” you say. “The two of us, walking down a city street. Never thought it would happen.” 

Dirk huffs out a very quiet laugh. “No shit, man. Didn’t think I’d live this long, to be completely honest.” 

“Yeah. Neither me.” You’re quiet for a moment. “Sort of surreal, isn’t it?” you ask. “All these people and nothing keeping us from them. I was thinking earlier that we have the whole world available to us.” 

“Totally bizarre,” he agrees. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I like people. But it’s freaky as fuck to stand in a whole room of them when I spent most of my life not talking to more than one person at a time. Didn’t get enough of an adjustment period, somehow.” 

You almost say that Dirk had seemed to be handling himself just fine, but then, doesn’t Dirk always do his best to act like that? “I understand,” you say instead. It’s a treat to have Dirk tell you what’s going on in his mind when it’s contrary to his appearance. You tuck it away to savor better later. “Well. I suppose it’s obvious that I understand that feeling.” 

Dirk nods. He takes his shades off and tucks them into his collar. Too dark, probably. Dumbass. “Sure, but it’s still nice to hear.” 

The two of you are winding towards a transportalization hub. Jane compared it to a subway station a few weeks ago. Just rows of transportalizers, all taking people to different places. You’re not exactly a fan. You always worry that you’ll take the wrong one by accident. 

“It’s a nice night,” Dirk says, tipping his head back towards the sky. You admire the line of his throat. “Clear skies.” 

“Not too cold, either,” you say. 

“Yeah, I can’t tolerate the cold at all,” Dirk says. “Apparently a super annoying side effect of growing up in direct sunlight is that anything colder than this is purely horrible.” 

You laugh aloud to see if you can see your breath. You can’t. “Yes, it’s awful! Give me the tropics any day. Though I’m excited to see snow again this winter.” 

“That’ll be fun,” Dirk agrees. “So long as nobody gets frostbite.” 

“We’re gods, Dirk,” you remind him. “We could probably go skinny dipping in some ice floes and be fine.” 

“Yeah, let’s not test that one,” he says, dry as dust, and lets you head down the steps into the transportilization hub first. It’s quieter at this time of night. Not crowded by any means. Just some spare carapacians and humans, out late, and the nocturnal trolls of course. You hesitate, lingering towards the side, not heading in any direction yet. Dirk and you will probably have to take different routes home. 

Dirk pauses next to you, not seeming ready to part ways, either. You take a breath and blow it out carefully. He’s not quite looking at you. 

“Come home with me,” you say impulsively. 

That gets his attention. Dirk stares at you with wide, shocked eyes. “Uh—” he says, and then breaks off, doubtful. “Like…” 

“You didn’t misunderstand,” you say. 

“I—” Dirk says. His gaze skitters away. 

You’re suddenly cold with the knowledge that Dirk could very easily say no. That he could decide it’s not worth the risk, that he doesn’t want you enough anymore. 

“Really?” Dirk asks at last. There’s something in his voice that you can’t quite parse. “You want to…” He glances around. There’s nobody near you. “You’re sure?” 

“I am very, very sure,” you say. 

Dirk licks his lips nervously. “Okay,” he says. 

The switch from painfully nervous to exhilarated leaves you breathless. “Okay,” you echo. You can’t keep yourself from grinning at him and Dirk’s mouth twitches up in a half a smile in response. “Let’s go, then.” 

He follows you through the mess of transportalizers you have to take, not just in this location, but through several more after that, a winding path to consort kingdom. It’s close to where you used to call home. The consorts asked you to stay with them for a time, since they live in droves on some of the bigger islands to the west of where you once lived. The familiarity of the weather and landscape is a balm to something inside of you. It’ll be better with Dirk there in your rooms, which are too big and alien for you to really feel at home in. 

The last transportalizer lands you on a narrow, winding road. The sound of the sea hitting the shore fills your ears. You turn around and pull Dirk into a kiss. The feeling of his skin under your hands is heady. His mouth on yours is even better. One of his hands settles on your wrist and he rubs small circles there while tilts his head into the kiss. His lips are very warm and you want to drink him in and kiss him forever. 

You force yourself to pull back with a gasp. “Just down the street,” you say, trying to convince yourself to move. You adjust to grab his hand and more or less drag him after you. Dirk twines your fingers together and you smile giddily into the night. You pull him off the road and up the little path, the dirt under your shoes more sand than soil, then fumble your front door open. You take a second for you both to kick off your shoes and close the door behind you, but you don’t even bother to turn the lights on or move farther in before you push him against the wall and kiss him again. 

Dirk doesn’t resist in the slightest. He leaves his mouth slightly parted and when you take the invitation to lick into him he tangles your tongues together. His hands settle tentatively on your waist. 

Hell, you’re wearing a lot of layers. You fumble for the zipper on Dirk’s coat while trying not to pull away any more than necessary. He shrugs it off onto the floor and you try to do the same with his suit jacket, shoving it off his shoulders until it falls. You really could not care less if it’s expensive. Dirk tries to undo the buttons on your coat at the same time that you go for his shirt buttons and your hands get tangled. He breaks away to laugh and nudge you backwards. You undo your own coat and jacket, untie your bowtie, and are starting on the cuffs of your shirt when Dirk pulls his shirt off over his head. He does the rest of your shirt while you smooth your hands appreciatively up his sides. 

You remembered right. Dirk shivers at your touch. You drop your own shirt on the ground and then take Dirk by the belt loops to walk him into your bedroom, backing up until you find the hallway. Then you kiss him again for a moment, less sloppy but probably still hinged with desperation. Dirk cups your face in his hands and sighs, a contented noise. 

“I’ve missed you so fucking much,” you say without thinking when you pull away. 

Dirk’s eyes squeeze shut for a heartbeat. “Yeah,” he says, quiet. “Me too.” 

You press your foreheads together and try not to let the sadness take hold. You can smell him, feel him, hear him. It helps. You press your mouths back together for a short moment and then pull him with you until you can push your bedroom door open. 

In the daytime you can see the sea from your windows. It’s dark now, and you have only the distant roar, still audible through the walls, and the faint light of the moon. Dirk sits on the bed and you turn on a lamp. 

He’s much more clearly nervous now that you can really see him. You want to reassure him but you’re not sure how. This isn’t the moment to talk, really, but tomorrow maybe, over breakfast. You like that idea. The two of you could go to the beach after you talk, explore together. 

You bend to kiss again, another quick swipe of your mouths together before you push him back onto the bed and climb after him. Dirk slides to the far side and you lie down next to him. When you apply pressure with your fingertips Dirk obligingly tilts his head and you kiss his neck. He’s sensitive here, and you suck right below his ear until he shudders in your grasp. 

“How do you want to do this?” you ask. 

“Don’t really care,” Dirk says. “I — anything’s good. Whatever you want.” 

“Well, we’re going to be here a while then,” you say. “There’s a lot of things I want right now.” 

Dirk’s laugh turns into a groan when you return to lavishing attention on his neck. “Okay, fuck,” he says. “I don’t know.” You shift to the junction of his neck and shoulder and work your way down to the hollow of his throat. “Do you have lube?” 

You break off and press your face into his chest. “No,” you say, muffled and annoyed. “I don’t. Well if that isn’t a whole downpour  _ and _ bucket of sand onto the fire. I’ll have to get some.” 

“I have some,” Dirk says. “Not — not on me. In general. If you, uh.” 

“Good to know,” you say, and make up your mind. “Next time, then.” You’re nowhere near as weirdly passionate as Dirk is about blowjobs, but you think you’re at least adequate. Maybe even decent. Dirk has never had any complaints. You fumble for the button on his slacks and Dirk rocks into your hand once you get it down his pants. You rub him through his briefs and listen to him try not to react too obviously. It only means that when you squeeze, his caught breath turns into a whimper. Dirk shifts and gets his free arm down towards your pants, too. The angle’s a little funny so you sit up to pull Dirk’s slacks off, then peel his socks off. He makes a get back up here gesture when you take too long and you snicker as you kick the rest of your own clothes off. Then you nudge his legs apart and settle between them. 

“Fuck, oh fuck,” Dirk says as you reacquaint yourself tongue-first. He touches your hair very lightly and you hum, eyes falling shut in concentration. You take a moment just to lick him, remember what will make him shake with the effort to stay still, and cup his balls with the hand not occupied by holding yourself up. Dirk honest to god whines when you roll his balls in your hand and try to slide his foreskin down with your mouth. He just lies there and pets your hair as you relearn how this works. You move your hand to the base of his shaft and try to coordinate your movements. It’s a little clumsy for at first, and you’re sort of self conscious and trying not to think about the stretch of your jaw. Then you open your eyes and catch the way Dirk is looking at you, half propped up on his elbow. He looks at you like he never wants to look away, like he wants to look at you forever. 

You slide your mouth free for a second. “Is this good?” you ask, trying not to be nervous. 

“You’re perfect,” Dirk says with a note of honest to hell reverence in his voice. You do your best not to laugh at him. 

You can’t think of a quick response, so you sink back down and to take him as deep as you can. Dirk’s swearing under his breath again as you pull back off and then go down again, more quickly this time. Then again. Rhythm established. You’re pleased with yourself, a little. 

Fine tremors are running through Dirk’s thighs. “I’m not going to last at all,” he warns. “Sorry about it.” 

You open your eyes again to roll them so he can see it. Who cares? Not you. You’re too busy enjoying Dirk’s breathy gasps whenever you manage something good. You grind against the mattress, trying to get some relief for yourself. You take a break to lick across his slit and Dirk’s hips twitch up. You slide your mouth back down to try to swallow around him. 

Dirk’s fingers abruptly tighten in your hair and the trembling in his legs increases. He falls silent when he comes, spilling half in your mouth and half across your hand. You swallow what’s in your mouth and wipe the rest off on the sheets. Dirk goes limp and you admire him, splayed out in front of you with a bright flush across his cheeks. His eyes reopen when he hears you groan, stroking yourself. 

“No, come here, I’ve got you,” he murmurs, clearly orgasm-drunk. He gets a hand on your arm and pulls you down over him, then spits in his palm and moves his hand to your cock. You brace yourself on your forearms and kiss him again, rutting into his grip. You hope he can taste himself in your mouth. He gets his free hand up between you and thumbs across a nipple. You hitch harder against him. You wish you could’ve fucked him, taken the time to open him up and really get to see him spread out for you. Well, like you said. Next time. For now he strokes you and you fuck his hand and chase your own orgasm. 

Dirk sucks on your tongue and sighs for you. You’re so glad that you have him, that you get to have him. You’re not letting go this time, you tell yourself. You can figure it all out so long as you get to keep him. 

You push yourself up so that you can look at him. Dirk tries to chase your mouth but then flops back down. 

“Have I ever told you,” you force out between your heavy breaths, “that I think you’re beautiful? You’re, honestly you’re such a looker, ah.” You clench your eyes shut when Dirk’s fist tightens on you. 

He doesn’t respond, exactly, but his free hand splays out across your lower back, then slides down to your ass and squeezes. When you look at him again his face is scrunched up, some sort of emotion splayed across it. You kiss him again like you want to fall into him and then pull away again because you can’t catch your breath. There’s sweat collecting on your back. You flash onto the last long months of careful distance and wishing you knew how to make Dirk touch you again and hide your face in his neck. 

“I missed you so much,” you say again, words hardly discernable. Dirk turns his head and you move with him unthinkingly until he can put his mouth on your throat like you did earlier to him, and the warm wetness of his mouth working against your skin just about undoes you. “Dirk, fuck, fuck,” you say, helpless, hips still working into his hand. You fall into it, the steady heat of his body beneath you, how familiar and comforting it is, how you want to touch every inch of his body and make him squirm and squirm for him in return, how you want him to sleep in your bed beside you tonight and wake up in the morning to kiss him again and touch him and make him come, how you want all of this with the same intensity that you want to hold his hand when you’re out and about. 

Dirk is saying something again, something too low for you to completely register beyond how good it is to be touched by him, how close you are, but even without words his voice sends another pulse of arousal through you. You dig your fingers into his shoulders and gasp out something wordless and spill across his hand and chest. He strokes you through it and then slows, hand finally falling away. You slump to the side, still against him, one leg thrown across him in case he gets any bright ideas about running off. Your heart rate comes down and your breathing settles. Dirk lies still next to you. 

You register what he’d been saying.  _ I’ve got you, let me feel it, I want you. You’re incredible, Jake.  _ You curl around him a little more tightly. 

He eventually pokes you lightly. “Can we get a tissue in here or something? My hand’s a fucking mess and I don’t want to just wipe it on the sheets.” 

You sigh and roll away long enough to fumble for a tissue. Dirk cleans himself up and then flops back down next to you. You’re both quiet for a long moment. 

“It’s okay if I sleep here?” he asks. 

“Yes,” you say. “I want — we can talk tomorrow, maybe. If that’s okay. And I wanted to show you the beach.” 

There’s a pause, and then Dirk says, “That sounds nice.” He sounds genuine. You consider getting up to brush your teeth. You should offer Dirk a toothbrush, too. 

Maybe in a minute. You roll back onto him and kiss his cheek. You can feel him smile. “Bathroom’s the first door on the right,” you say, suddenly weighed down by tiredness. “Help yourself if you need anything.” 

“Thanks,” Dirk says, but makes no move to get up. He stays there instead, threads an arm under yours and across your side, touches your foreheads together as you hover on the edge of falling asleep. 

It would be, you decide, too cliché to tell him you love him directly after having sex. You can always tell him in the morning. 

**Author's Note:**

> can you believe i wrote cis dirk... wild


End file.
